Lost
by CrazedAndConfusedFor5SOS
Summary: The dream kept occurring, and it felt like I was being suffocated. It was pitch black and the only light I could see was a small light hanging from nothing. The worst part was that the dream never ended. All day and night it feels like I was just wandering, going nowhere and never being able to reach the light. Rated T for language. Oh and a 5 Seconds Of Summer fic.
1. Chapter 1: How Life Was Before

Chapter 1: How Life Was Before

It's funny how the day I started my entries was the day the dreams started. It sucks being surrounded by people who have friends and socialize with everyone they see. What makes it worse was being surrounded by an entire town where everybody knows everyone and you're the only one who barely talks.

My parents think I'm awkward ,because of some mental problem they made up. But the truth is, I hate almost everyone in my school. My parents are the most popular socialites in town who have balls, galas, and cotillion almost every weekend to sustain their "pristine reputation". Is what I get every time I ask why they go to these things let alone force me to got with them. I'm an only child and I know they won't say it but I know they wish they had more. Believe me, they hate kids, I barely saw them until i was 13. That's the only reason why I'm an only child. Plus, they think if they had another child it would make me stick out like a sore thumb even more.

I know what you're thinking " how can you possibly think that. They're your parents and they love you". I know that ,but its not a worry I had about my parents not wanting me to stick out more. Do you remember the fake mental problem my parents thought I had? Well... they got me a therapist ,so they could find out "what was wrong". I've been going to for 3 weeks and haven't said a word. She told for a fact that's why I have a therapist. She only told me this to get me to start talking and see how she can "help me". 3 times a week and a extra hour the longer I don't talk. The only form of communication we have is yes or no questions. I hope knows I'm not that easily tricked into talking. 


	2. Chapter 2:What I What My Life Contains

I go to Redwood High in Scarlington Oregon. My town is big enough where it's not a retirement town, but small enough where it won't be on most maps. You'd think if it was small town it wouldn't be a uppity rich socialite town right? That's what I thought ,but back in 8th grade when they taught us the geography of our town. Turns out when they were dividing up the state they made this town too big ,so from then on the town was cut in half and social classes were made. Now, about my school, Redwood High.

The freshmens, the worst kind of socialite you can find. Yes, the freshmens may be annoying with how they act, talk and knowledge ,but I can handle that. Like I said, everybody knows everyone and freshmen socialites are obsessed with being known by the important people; which means all the kids of the top ten most popular parents are prime targets for freshmen.

The sophmores, what are the right words to describe the sophmores? Well, put it this way, in the beginning its the transition stage. The transition stage is where they focus on their own classmates. I mean don't get mistaken sophmores are still obsessed with the important people... just not as much. It's that time where they mainly associate with the most connected kids in their grade.

The juniors, is where they realize they need to make their own connections to where they want their future to geared toward. It's the juniors that make it seem like school doesn't matter. In able to get connections you need to attend basically every single cotillion, ball, and gala to be noticed. If you're really desperate to make connections you'll plan your own ball.

Then, there's the seniors, where my classmates and I stand. Seniors' sole focus is basically getting the hell outta dodge. By the time you're a senior everything you were raised on doesn't matter anymore. When seniors are at galas ,or balls the real party doesn't start till after it's over when they all choose a house to crash and party till dawn. When senior year started, I quit going to balls, cotillions, and galas. I've always been a loner and everyone knew it. It only became obvious when I stopped going. The first time my parents thought I was sick and didn't pay any mind to it. Apparently, when you're a senior there's basically a party every night. I wish I knew that, but when I missed another my parents started to get worried. 2 months of hardly any galas were heaven on earth. Although, the heaven ended when I was forced to go to a therapist.

 **I would just like to say that everything in this story is fictional except for some of the main guy characters. The main girl character however is fake. Except her face claim is the lead singer from Against The Current, Chrissy Costanza.**


	3. Chapter 3: Therapy Sessions And More

My therapist thought I didn't talk to her enough (let alone at all). So, she decided to get me a journal and she told me that whenever I was comfortable enough I should write what I'm thinking at any time of the day. And she also said and I quote," You know Adelaide... oh I'm sorry Addie. You know Addie when you write in this I won't read it. This journal is for your eyes only. Although if you want me to read it when you don't feel like "saying" it you can just leave it here after you leave and I'll bring it back to you the next time I see you. I won't tell your parents. Confidentiality remember? I also thought that this could help you in school too. Yes, you are an all A student, but I thought when your in class and you've got something to say you can just write it down. If no one's listening."

The speech was longer and basically took up our whole hour , so believe me when I say you don't wanna hear the rest. Seriously though, the journal didn't go to waste. I didn't write in it ,but I doodled in it when I was bored... at first. After awhile I decided to give writing in the journal a whirl. The entries were small at first, like a couple of sentences.

Then suddenly, one night, I had this dream a-a-and in the beginning it seemed like I wasn't dreaming, but just sleeping. What changed was a light that suddenly appeared out of nowhere and I thought what could possibly be over there? Who's in this pitch black place with me? So, I did what any curious person would do in that situation. I walked towards it, except when I took the first step I was still in the same place. Not even an inch forward. I didn't notice at first so I tried again, again, and again. I ended up running in place trying to get to that light, stuck in place. The second I gave up my alarm woke me up telling me to get out of bed.

I couldn't focus all day, because of it. I haven't had a dream since I was 10. Why am I getting a dream now? It wasn't until 7th period that I had made the first official entry in my journal. 7th period was English, my favorite subject.

Mr. Jackson gave us a partner-project of the semester. What we had to do was write a paper of the person we were partnered with and present the paper at the end of the semester. He gave us some rules so that way we didn't write it immediately during class and blow it off the days he gave us to work on it. Like him choosing who were paired up with.

Whoever has me already has work to do, so it doesn't really matter who I got paired up with. Rule 1: Ask the given questions on the packet. For instance, What's your favorite color. Rule 2: You MUST spend time together out of school and find out what they like. Rule 3: Get to know the other person's family. And last but not least Rule 4: Respect your partner and their belongings. Knowing me, that's not gonna go well. Oh pleas God, don't let Mr. Jackson pair me up with anyone I can't stand.


	4. Chapter 4:English Partner Assignments

There's always been at least one ,or two perks with my last name being Zera. When I do a presentation I'm always last. Plus, I always do the extra credit to maintain an A. Usually, I like being last because by then most people stop caring and move on. Except, today was a different story. We were all waiting to see who we were paired up with and I know in my gut that this wasn't gonna end well. Unfortunately, everyone else realized that too. You see, this wasn't just regular roll call. This was partner-pairing and being the quiet one means I'm usually stuck in the background unseen. Until today.

This was probably the one time I wanted everyone to focus on themselves like they always do. But no. not only did they not focus on themselves today, they were silently and patiently waiting to find what poor soul has to deal with me. "Ms. Quinn you will be paired with Mr. Harmon. And last but not least Ms. Zera your partner will be. . .(drum roll please) Mr. Walker," Mr. Jackson announces.

Mr. Jackson is one of those teachers that knows what's going down in our social lives whether he wants to or not. So, I guess when he was pairing all of us up he was bored and wanted to stir the pot in my life. Seriously, Mr. Jackson what in the world did I ever do to you? When you're teaching I don't ignore you like some students. I turn in every assignment you give out on time. Sometimes even a little early. When you make a bad joke I at least smile to give you a little credibility that it was remotely funny.

Why out of all people did you have to pair me up with him? I already have him in every other class except for two. It's bad enough I have to put up with his existence in every other class ,but making me converse with him? I could have handled any other person in class. Why him? You know what I'm not gonna stand for this. I have to stand up for myself. For the sake of my sanity and peace in the classroom. I have to beg Mr. Jackson to though I haven't talked since freshmen year.

Here goes nothing. "Mr. Jackson, I have a problem with the partner I was assigned." The second I raised my hand the whole classroom went silent and wreaked havoc when I finished my sentence. It took Mr. Jackson 5 whole minutes to calm the class down. When the chatter finally died down he tells us to get started. Then asks me to talk to him privately. I can feel all eyes on me as I walk to Mr. Jackson's desk. All the students were supposed to move to be next to their partner. But I never gave Kyle Walker the chance to get up from his desk.

"Well, I don't know what to say Addie. You haven't said a word since your freshmen year and out of everything all your teachers ever did to try and make you speak nothing worked. If any of them or I knew pairing you up with Kyle would make you talk one of us would have done it ages ago. Now, down to business, why do you not want to be paired up with Kyle? You never seem to have a problem with anybody and I know believe me. You don't have to talk to show anyone that you don't like them. The one way I know is that you won't bother to look at them or look them in the eye. I know this, because when you're on your way to this class before school starts you get stopped by 15 freshmen. But this did make you speak up and say something. Mr," Jackson said.

"Thank you Mr. Jackson. I promise that if you give me anyone else I will ace this project and actually prese-." Before I could finish Mr. Jackson held up his hand and spoke.

"Addie, all of your teachers know you have great potential and want you to use it wisely. Yes, being paired up with Kyle did make you talk and that did make me reconsider your partner. Although there are two things I for sure don't do. 1. Go back on my decisions and 2. Change things that work. So, I've decided that I will not change your partner and see where this goes." "But Mr. Jackson", I said. "Sorry Addie, my decision is set. GO make the best of this".

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 **Hey everyone! I just wanted to say that if there is actually more than one reader here and if you have a Wattpad account go look on my account there and check out my other stories. For the reader I do know is here. Thanks for reading and reviewing. That makes my day almost as much as it does when you post. Until next time. . .**


	5. Chapter 5: Dealing With The Partner

"Fuck me. I swear if he says ,or does ANYTHING to piss me off it'll be the end of him." I mutter under my breath. Why out of all people did it have to be him? He's sooo obnoxiously self-centered. The playboy house has nothing on him from the amount of girlfriends he goes through in a week. He may be the best looking guy at our school and he may have all the girls fooled, but not me. The only reason girls are still willing to go after him is ,because on the outside he looks like a complete and utter gentlemen who looks like he wouldn't hurt a fly. When he's around people he seems nice and polite. . . almost. But when left alone there's a whole other side no one sees.

He's a kleptomaniac. I've seen him do this numerous times ,but he's only caught me witnessing it once. I don't know why I kept my promise of not telling anyone. Well, actually I do know why. 1) I don't talk to anyone so it doesn't really matter and 2) His parents are the second richest people in our town. Right behind my parents. No one would believe me. Although I kept my promise none the less. On the other hand, how bad can working with him be? Just look on the brightside. Besides, the project will probably go by in a flash.

"Listen, just because I'm willing to work with you doesn't mean I like you. I merely tolerate you for the sake of this assignment and peace in our class and even that is a stretch for me ,so don't try to pull anything." I don't like being rude to people I barely know,but if I'm being honest it felt good being mean to him.

"Whoa, okay so what it the world did I ever do to you? I mean, yes we have our little agreement ,but as far as I'm concerned there's no unresolved tension between us. Especially for you," Ashton said.

"You know wha-. Let's just get started on the project. So, what do you like to do mo-. . . Never mind I got this one." I say as I write my answer down. Right as I finish, Ashton grabs my notebook reads what my answer

Then says, "Really, that's what you think of me? Well, I understand the first one ,but the second one. Really? And the example is just-. . ."

Before he could finish I cut him off, "Complete and utterly true. I know for a fact the first one is true. I mean I'm surprised you know what kleptomaniac means, but the second one is true too. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you're no Saint. You've broken more hearts than you can probably count and stolen more virginities than a pimp. So, don't go and try to deny it. You don't know how many lessons I've basically missed, because the girls behind me are too busy talking about you and whoever you were dating that week. Plus, this isn't what I think of you. It's what I know about you", I exclaim.

"Okay, let's get something straight, no girl in this school is willing to go that far in one week an-."I cut him off again.

"If you get the girl drunk enough, yes, AND if it's YOU she's about to have sex with. And you're right it's not a week. Usually, it's a month on average. You probably could have a longer relationship if you tried and didn't dump every girlfriend after the one month mark after sleeping with them. Am I right?".Berfore he even could process what I said, the bell rang thus meaning the day has ended. Let's hope for the best tomorrow.

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 **Hey everyone! If any of you are still reading I just want to say thank you for continuing to put up with this. Just know that when I write I write with a lot of detail. Only so you can fell exactly feel what the characters are feeling and so you can have a mental image of where they might possibly be. If you have any suggestions just let me know in the comments and I'll respond as soon as possible.**


	6. Chapter 6: The Dream And My Parents

"Today I do. Tomorrow I will",said Dr. Langdon as I left. Right before I leave each session Dr. Langdon insists we leave off on an up-bringing, inspirational quote. I mean I would complain about having sessions on weekends, but I have nothing else to do. What's the harm? It's not like I'm missing out on shopping with equal socialites and trying to decide what dress is appropriate to tonight's party. (Hence my stupid party girl tone) No, what I had planned today was go back home and study till I got bored or hungry. It's weird. After that dream I haven't been the same. Of course it was only yesterday, but something just feels. . . Off. Whenever I usually had a problem I could figure it out by now.

Oh and on top of all this, it's decided that I'm stuck with Ashton for the English project. Yesterday was the first day we started on it and probably the only day we'll ever work on it. Well. . . I'll ever get to work on it. Luckily for me, I forgot it was Friday and I don't have to see him for two whole days.

I know I said I made an actual entry in the journal yesterday and I did. I wasn't sure what to write, because I haven't had a dream in 7 years. I wouldn't know how to describe it and I couldn't even remember it. It wasn't until I got home to at least get something written down. I would've asked Dr. Langdon about it, but questions would've followed suit and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to answer them.

That night when I was asleep, the dream, it came again and this time I still wasn't sure what to do. I did everything I could to try and escape the dream. Walk, run, sprint, call out for help, you name it. But nothing worked, it felt like the only thing I could do was stand there and just wait till morning. Again, my alarm buzzed off and woke me up, but you can't wake up if you're already awake.

This time when I woke up, I woke up sweating and screaming. Trying to regain composure,but all I got was my dad barging in my room with a 9-iron screaming like a maniac. 2 solid minutes later he calmed himself down and saw me curled up in a ball under my covers.

In all honesty, I like my dad better than my mom. Well yea, he likes his reputation and wants to keep it that way. But I know he won't force me to do anything if I don't want to. I once said, I barely saw my parents until I was 13, well when I did see them they would at least use as much time as they could to spend it with me.

From birth to now, I was always a quiet kid. I always kept to myself , when they saw me they were relieved to be aware that I wasn't going to be that much trouble. Out of all those moments I spent with them as a kid. I always favored my dad more. When there were times I could only spend time with my dad, because my mother was busy. I smiled out of content. Don't get me wrong I love my mom, but she would always make me put on these frilly, itchy, fancy "dresses for tots". She made me do numerous things that she thought would help me make friends. She finally stopped when I was 5 and I got runner up for "Little Miss Cutie Patootie". (That's a town pagent thing. Just so you know)

With my dad however, he would just spend the day with me and try and keep it as simple as possible. Every time my dad and I would go to the movies, he would sometimes let me pick the movie no matter how scary it was for me. After that we would play at the park and finish the day with our favorite ice cream shop, "Ice Creamed Mustache". He would always get mint and I would get sherbet. He would just ask me questions about school, the kids in my class, or just how I was doing. He never pushed, he never pressured me into anything. He was satisfied with just plain ole' me.

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 **Hey everyone! Its me again. Thanks for reading this chapter. If you dont like the story, then dont hate and stop reading. If you like the story but dont like certain parts then comment what you didn't like. PLEASE. All I ask is for you to comment and tell me what you think. If this story sucks completely then please for the love of all that is fanfiction tell me. I wanna know if I suck at writing. Anyways thanks for reading this. Until next time.**


	7. Chapter 7:After 3 Years Of Not Talking

So, my dad barged in my room screaming like a maniac and took a little bit of time to calm himself down before coming to me. I haven't had actual time to spend with my dad in a long time. The closest thing to a conversation we've had was small "chitchat" in the mornings before I left for school, but that's it.

My dad sees me and I guarantee you he's standing in the middle of my room looking at me with a confused face trying to figure out what to say. He knows I know he's there, but in these cases I'm just like my dad. Waiting for the situation to be over. Unfortunately,we both knew an interaction had to be made. Finally, my dad walks over to my bed and sits on the edge.

I slowly lift my covers from my face and look at my dad.I was about to say something when I hear him clear his throat and softly say,"Uh um, Hey Addie Patty, you okay? I heard you scream and well, I couldn't sleep ,so I came as soon as I could. (Little factoid: Addie Patty is a nickname I got when I was a kid.)

I couldn't make friends unless I chose to make them. And the friend I chose was a I would have play dates with them I would always make at least one mud patty and shove it in my friend's face. One time when my dad had time, he took me to my play date and saw what I did and 's when he slipped the name Addie Patty. Since then, only my dad has called me that. The next time, my one only friend whom I had play dates with called me that and I beat him up. Then asked the maid that drove me to take me home. I've been friendless ever since.

Sorry, I'm getting off track. Now, after my dad is finished I just looked at him trying to figure out what to say. I know my dad is waiting to get a nod of confirmation, but I talked at school Why not talk at home? Let's see how my dad reacts.

"Hey dad, sorry I freaked you out. I just had a really really. . . really weird dream and it freaked me out. Although, seeing you freak out like that was kinda funny", I explained.

Before I said any of that I looked at my covers and when I looked back up, he had this amazed and surprised face. I couldn't help but laugh. . . well giggle. I really hope he didn't notice. After two seconds he shakes his head and says,"Whoa, whoa, wait. Since when did you start speaking again? And,. . . giggling, really?," my dad chuckled.

"Damn it. I was hoping you did't notice", I mutter. One thing I love most about my dad is that he has the best sense of humor. Mine. It's sarcastic and rude, but I don't hear it very often.

"Adelaide Sophia Zera! Where did you learn that language?!, my dad said sarcastically. I love when I actually do hear him being sarcastic, because that gives me the greenlight to be just as bad.

When I was a kid my dad would use this sense of humor all the time when it was just him and I. At the time I didn't understand what type of tone he was using, but I always laughed. And I always will.

 _ **Sorry that this chapter is shorter than usual. I at least feel like it is. Thanks again LoveToRead404 for the story mention. It meant a lot to me for that to happen. Oh and just so you know this whole conversation with Addie and her dad is where I got my writers block. But I had these chapters already written on other sites it just took me forever to get the time to put it on here. Until next time...**_


	8. Chapter 8: Trading Wise Cracks

"Dad, I'm 18 years old. You didn't expect me to stay little forever, Did you?," I say, dropping a angsty teen tone.

"Well, you're my daughter, my little girl, my Addie Patty. When you stopped talking, I was hoping that it would stay that way. But nooo, you had to have a weird dream that made you start talking again", My dad said, pretending to be hurt.

I scoffed.

"Well, I'm not any of those things anymore ,so you're just gonna have to deal with it," I said like a bratty teenage girl."

"Ouch. That last one actually hurt. I'm glad to find out officially that you took after me. Maybe the next time I'm home for an actual day we can have some father-daughter time. Like the good ole' days", My dad said honestly.

"I'd like that. We haven't spent actual time together since I was 8 years old. And this time when you try and talk to me, I'll actually understand when you're being sarcastic," I laughed.

"Actually there was one other time when I knew you took after me. It was the one time when we went out of our routine. Before your mom left that day she told me you had a play date and I had to take you. It wasn't until I met your friend when I realized why your mom was unhappy about your play date. She always wanted you to have friends and always put you around other kids in hope of you making friends. I mean a friend is a friend. Boy or girl. And in your case, boy. That was also the day I realized my daughter was a total badass. Although, I do remember you beating him up, because. . . Well I saw it. But I don't know why. Actually, there were two things I found out and don't know why. Of course what I just said a minute ago, why you beat that kid up? And most importantly, where the hell did you learn to fight? Honestly, seeing you fight? That was one of the greatest things I could have ever seen," My dad informed me.

"I'm surprised you remember all that. If you really want to know why for both of those questions I'd be glad to answer one of them. If you want," I responded.

"I can understand why you're surprised. Your mom and I haven't been that attentive since. . . ever ,but that day I'll remember forever. Oh and you better tell me why, because now that I got you talking, I'm gonna use it to my advantage. So, spill," Said by my dad. A true gossiper.

"Alright, alright. I learned how to fight by watching boxer movies with the maid's son. You see, sometimes the maid would bring her son over, because mom thought it would at least help my social skills. One time,when her son, Stephen came over and he saw me watching Million Dollar Baby. He sat beside me and said that all the fights were fake, because "girls can't fight". I said that the fights were real, because not only can girls fight ,but girls can fight better that boys can. You can piece together how I proved him wrong," I answered.

"That explains how you can fight. There is one more thing you need to answer. Why did you beat. . . what was his name? You know what, that doesn't matter. Why did you beat the kid up?," my dad questioned.

"If I tell you, do you promise not to become all sappy like most parents do?," I questioned back.

"I can't promise you that until you tell me. Besides, this is me you're talking to. It's not like the second you tell me I'm gonna turn into one of those "teen movie moms" that cries with their daughter's when something emotional happens," Dad assured.

"Fine," I huffed. "The reason I beat him up was because he called me Addie Patty," I revealed.

I know that the second he responds is the second I'm gonna be squished by a hug from him. Even if this exact conversation happened or not. Any way this conversation could've went, it would've ended in a hug. That's what happens when you talk at 3 A.M.

I guess hearing my answer to him back a little bit, because his smile disappeared and his eyes got glossy. You can tell he's trying his absolute best to keep himself together, but there's no hiding that a couple of his heartstrings were pulled. I should probably say something before the silence that fills my room becomes awkward.

"Erm, uh. . . Dad. Are you Okay? You haven't said anything for awhile," I say hesitantly.

"Y-y-yea. Peachy keen, jelly bean," my dad says as he chokes up a bit. "I just. . . I just didn't expect that. Out of all the words that you could've said. Out of all the reasons that could've caused that fight so long ago. It was that kid calling you "Addie Patty", he finishes trying to let the tears that are threatening to fall to go unnoticed.

"HEY! You promised that you wouldn't get sappy if I told you," I whisper yell, also trying not to cry. I will say this here and now that for as long as I can remember. Whenever someone else in the room was crying, I would always cry with them. I would never cry unless someone else was. I didn't want them to be singled out.

"For your information, I said I couldn't promise that I wouldn't get sappy until you told me. So really, the blame's on you for having a sappy reason," he says, giving me a counter argument.

"Well, I trusted that you wouldn't turn into one of those "teen movies moms" as you eloquently put it. But no, you lied about that too. What am I going to do with you? If I wanted a sob fest I would've gotten mom," I chuckled.

"When you're my age, you'll come to realize that if life wasn't lived the right way for you, then you still have bits of yourself that need to be found. Which in real life means mid-life crisis, but since I'm not middle aged yet," he chuckled back.

"Are you sure about that? I've never heard one adult that's your age use the term "peach keen, jelly bean". The only other time I've heard that term used was when I watched Grease and that's when I was 9. Plus, that movie was set in the 50's. Also, let's not forget all the grey I see in the sink after you shave," I joked.

"First of all, all that grey is from stress and lack of sleep. Secondly, Grease was set in the 50's,but was made and released in the 70's. If you listened to me at all when we watched movies together, you would've known that movies from the 50's are in black in white, because color was too expensive," my dad said as he explained himself.

"I thought I raised you right, but I guess not," my dad concluded.

"You're wrong. You would've had to raise me to raise me right," I said joking back.

"Ouch. I would have something to say about that, but it's late and you should be getting back to bed. Goodnight Addie Patty," my dad said.

"Goodnight," I said back.


End file.
